#seedv

Here’s my story being displayed for love week. I was really hesitant to do this, even though it was anonymous. Glad I did though. Hopefully it will help to raise awareness, and maybe even help someone reach out.

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This isn’t something I tell many people, and isn’t something I talk about often, but I felt I need to. Because I realized that before it happened to me I didn't know anyone (well no one that had told me) that had been in a domestic violence situation. No one talked about it seemed….or at least I didn’t listen. When they did (and I had even held this stigma as well), it was always "why doesn't she just leave" or something along those lines. Someone I know summed it up perfectly I think, they told me: “It's not easy for people to hear. Most people couldn't handle it so they act like it doesn't happen or they blame the victim because it’s easier than knowing there is true evil in the world. They stick their heads in the sand.” We choose to be ignorant and that’s not ok. So I’m telling my story, it can happen to anyone:        When I moved to Virginia I had my whole life ahead of me. I had a full scholarship toa good college, a car, a job, and met the love of my life. After my first year at university I moved in with my boyfriend, we talked about getting married, and soon found out I was pregnant. I transferred to the community college and all was going well, we were going to be a family. We had a great relationship, he was sweet, supportive, and a great provider. We made each other want to be better people, we were a team. We were going to get married. Somehow, after our son was born that all changed.  With the high stress of having a newborn with feeding issues and adjusting to parenthood, something changed. He lost his job, and from then on, nothing was the same. It wasn’t sudden, but a gradual process; this made it easier to try and think it could get better again.  I had Isolated myself from all of my family and friends, but the way he manipulated me made me feel like it was my choice. I felt like he was the only person I could count on. He began to call me names and demean me, slowly breaking down my confidence and self-esteem. Soon he kept me from being about to go to work and school, (partially by manipulating his family who was babysitting our son) and I had to drop out 2weeks into nursing school. One night he choked me, but then things were better for a while. Every time things would get bad, they would get better for a while, and I would be hopeful that we were headed back to way we used to be. One day he got drunk and held a gun to his head for what seemed like hours and said he was going to kill himself. If it was bad all the time I would have left, but it wasn’t. Around Christmas things got worse again, I had to call the cops for the first time, and he wouldn't let me forget it. He made me feel like it was my fault.         Many calls to the cops later, and a failed attempt at leaving….until, one day I woke up and realized I was working three jobs as the only source of income, having anxiety attacks, constantly walking on eggshells scared of what he would. I was taking our son to his family’s house so they could watch him, so he wasn't even taking care of our son anymore. I finally went back and took my state board exams, so I was able to get a better full time job.The more I started to try and better our life the more I began to realize how bad things really were. He started to talk to me like a dog and stopped hiding it when we were around his family. His dad called him out for it once, but realized it just made things worse for me when we got home. I started to realize that I wanted to leave him, but I was so behind on rent that I couldn't leave him, and his family was my only source of childcare. I went into survival mOde and just tried to avoid doing anything that I thought might set him off. Soon I learned that it didn’t matter what I did anymore, if he wanted to be mad and throw a fit, he would find a reason. It wasn’t my fault.          One day he was going on one of his rampages and I decided to leave. I took our son and went to the car. He disconnected some wires in the car so that I couldn't go. I called the cops again while I had him locked out of the vehicle. That day I filed my first protective order against him. I spoke to Abuse alternatives for the first time, and I filed for custody. He showed up at the courthouse while I was there, and due to poor circumstances, he managed to talk to me for a few moments. He managed to get his foot back in the door. He agreed to get inpatient mental health treatment and do whatever it took to get better. So like many people in my position, I agreed to give him another chance.                  

He was diagnosed with a mental-health disorder and started medication and therapy. He came back home and things were actually good again. He started to treat me better, help around the house, spend time with his son, and he even got a job. Unfortunately like every other time, it didn't last. He missed appointments, stopped taking his medicine, started lying and drinking. He had one blow up, and then before I knew it I had barricaded myself and my son in his room while he was outside the door with the phone and a knife. He did everything he could to try to get me to open that door and ultimately pushed his way through. Luckily the cops finally arrived since I had attempted to call them before he took the phone away. By leaving him before and talking to others about it, I finally found the strength to press charges and to leave him. I found support and help from people in the community that helped me feel like I mattered again. They put me in a safe house, got me a lawyer, and made sure we were safe.

       And I wonder, what would have happened to my son and I if people hadn’t started a dialogue about domestic violence with me. Where would I have been if those brave few  hadn't decided to brave through the reality that evil does exist, for the hope that they could save us.I think back to that last night,  I still wonder what would have happened to us is the cops didn’t have our address on file from before and came. I wonder what would have happened if he had made me answer the phone when 911 tried to call me back, if he had made me tell them nevermind–instead of taking the phone apart. I wonder about what would of happened if he had used that knife on my son to get to me.

 I wonder about what if he hadn’t let the cops inside after having said “I don’t know what to do”. The scariest sentence I have ever heard in my life. 

I wonder about all the people who have heard that sentence, but didn’t get the chance to leave. Then I stop wondering. I remember that I did get that chance, that I waited and I watched, and finally found the strength to #takeastand. I felt there was no way out at the time, that I was stuck. Every moment I began to feel like a prisoner, when things got better and I thought there was finally hope for us, the cycle would begin again. But now I am free. I have a SAFE and STABLE home for us. I escaped the cycle and am able to provide for us independently of my ex or his family. I am working, and going to school (returned spring 2016) so that I can provide us with a better future. I am showing my son every day what strength is and showing him that I WILL ALWAYS CHOOSE HIM. I will make sure that every moment of everyday, he knows that he is loved. It has been 255days. I couldn’t have done it without the help that I was given, mostly by strangers. That is why it is so important to end the silence, to say #NoMore to the excuses, to stop being a bystander, because love shouldn’t hurt. We have a choice, and I choose to #seeDV .